Hard Working Fool

I chew concrete dust, and he comes walkin' out,

the building covered in black soot.

His white painter's overalls ashed,

surrounded by white hats,

and all the men cheer him on.

"There he goes," they say

"That's the hardest worker on the site."

others scream, and he walks

with all these chips on his

tar-covered shoulders. I can even hear them rattle.

Talking to white-

hats that look at him with money pouring out

of their eye sockets as they stare at

how hard he works for them.

As they push him away so they

don't get dirt on their fresh

Bright Orange Company Man

high visibility vests.

I might as well be an

alien on these construction graveyards

you can't pay me enough to bust my ass

for your profits. To die each day for union pay

in a union that should be run by the boots on

the ground and not the guys in the

ivory towers. Give me a beer to keep

these ideas away. I open my lunch box

and swig a Busch to cool my thoughts. Let's watch.

Watch as their eyes gloss over,

as they count the dollars stacking in their pockets

each morning this guy arrives before

everyone else,

and gets home later than them all.

Watch their ears fill with stacks

as the hardest worker on the site

gets praise from his fellow men

about how he's such a hard worker.

Let's all laugh together about

every missed birthday

and every missed holiday

and overtime on the weekends

and a wife that's always bitchin'

let's all cheer him on,

let's praise this hard-working man,

and I'll praise these hard-working beers.